


Trail Blazing

by tumbleweedfarm



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Sakusa Kiyoomi, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, They're In Love Your Honor, seriously the softest smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:19:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29591298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumbleweedfarm/pseuds/tumbleweedfarm
Summary: If Sakusa wants the control, he will drag Atsumu to the bedroom, or the nearest somewhat comfortable surface, or the nearest wall. If it’s Atsumu’s turn, he will lace their fingers together and allow Atsumu to guide.Today, he does neither.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 242





	Trail Blazing

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy this pwp I found in my docs.

There are rules to Sakusa’s bad days, and Atsumu knows them well. 

These rules have never been written down, but they’re clear as day on Sakusa’s skin, patterns on a butterfly’s wings. Sakusa and his many intricacies are as beautiful as they are delicate, and must be treated accordingly.

On this particular day, Atsumu follows one of many well-traveled paths into Sakusa’s head. Sakusa is sitting at their kitchen table, pulling his sleeves down over his hands. It could be passable as an absent habit, but Atsumu catalogs the downward twitch of Sakusa’s mouth whenever the seam slides across his wrist. 

Atsumu meets a familiar fork in the road. Sakusa’s wrists have always been an area of focus, both internally and on the sensitive nerves right below the skin. Sakusa’s irritation could mean one of two things. Either he’s worried about a potential injury, or he’s trying to ignore the prickling that’s taken up residence alongside his tendons.

Atsumu hopes it’s the latter.

Slowly, Atsumu pulls a mug from one of the cabinets. He places it down on the counter with the utmost care, letting the ceramic grind ever so softly on granite, then takes his first glance at Sakusa. His brow is pulled lower than before, but his eyes are still trained on his wrists.

Sakusa Kiyoomi hates a great many things. And, contrary to popular belief, loves a great many more. He hates being treated like a kid, and loves Atsumu enough to tell him to fuck off when he starts tip toeing around Sakusa’s discomforts. Despite his preferred accommodations, Sakusa would rather die than feel coddled. If today were a simple case of worry, the gentle placement of the mug should have been enough to warrant a snappy remark and a pointed glare. Sakusa says nothing. Atsumu pops a little bubble of excitement. He has a few more rules to follow.

Sakusa, blunt as he is, sucks at asking for things. Atsumu still can’t tell if it’s embarrassment, pride, or some weird complex, but Sakusa has yet to request attention without a precautionary veil of hesitation, or an irritated huff. The first few months of their relationship were a mess of longing looks and aborted touches. Thankfully, Atsumu has spent countless hours tracing Sakusa’s mind, forming constellations to rival the freckles and moles scattered across his skin. 

One such cartography session led to a monumental discovery. The world is sometimes too much for Sakusa Kiyoomi, and even the lightest brush can be irritating. This, both of them knew. What they found out, through lots of experimentation, is that Sakusa’s touch sensitivity can be settled by fingers and lips pressing on buzzing nerves.

Here is yet another familiar divergence in Atsumu’s favorite maze. Some days, Sakusa’s need for control manifests in Atsumu’s destruction. Sakusa’s relentless hands will pull Atsumu apart, nails digging into flesh and teeth sinking into shoulders. Atsumu adores these days, where Sakusa takes and takes, until they both melt down into the sheets. 

But some days, oh, god, some days Sakusa will lay himself out for Atsumu to devour. His grumbling quips telling Atsumu to hurry up do nothing to conceal the desperation, that need to be consumed. Those days are nothing like those dominated by Sakusa’s frustration. No, on these days, Atsumu will take his time, making sure to connect with every inch of Sakusa’s body. He fucks him open slowly, sometimes with his fingers, sometimes his tongue. Still, there are rules. But these rules were penned by Atsumu’s lips and palms, carved into the dips of Sakusa’s hipbones.

Atsumu makes his move, an outstretched hand. Simple in execution, but bearing whatever it needs to. If Sakusa wants the control, he will drag Atsumu to the bedroom, or the nearest somewhat comfortable surface, or the nearest wall. If it’s Atsumu’s turn, he will lace their fingers together and allow Atsumu to guide. 

Today, he does neither.

Today, Sakusa grabs Atsumu’s hand and pushes it into his hair with a soft shudder. Sakusa is pulled taught, shoulders nearly shaking with tension. His eyes are shut tight, grip firm on Atsumu’s wrist.

“Hey, Omi,” Atsumu doesn’t dare move yet. “Bad day?”

Normally, Atsumu wouldn’t ask. He’d simply follow the paths they’ve taken many times before. But Sakusa has pulled Atsumu into the underbrush, and Atsumu needs guidance. 

If this were a typical bad day, Sakusa would scoff and roll his eyes. But today isn’t a normal day. Today, Sakusa pulls Atsumu’s hand further into soft curls with something so close to a whimper that Atsumu nearly drops to his knees right there.

“Hey, baby,” Atsumu twists his fingers further into Sakusa’s hair and gives a gentle tug. Sakusa’s shoulders slump down. Atsumu drops his voice to a whisper. “Look at me?”

Sakusa does, and Atsumu could cry. His eyes hold none of the tension they usually carry on days like this. There’s nothing for Atsumu to take away, only an open kind of reverence that Atsumu desperately wants to drown in. 

Before Atsumu can slip down, Sakusa turns his head to press his lips to Atsumu’s wrist. 

“Omi,” Atsumu whispers. “I’m gonna need ya to tell me what ya want.”

Sakusa hums. Atsumu wants him to take his time. 

“I want you,” Sakusa whispers, towing Atsumu’s hand out of his hair and placing a kiss on his palm. “That’s all.”

The ropes that suspended Atsumu above the sea finally snap, and he falls.

Atsumu cups his hands around Sakusa’s face and tugs him onto his feet, pressing their lips together. Sakusa melts into it, letting his tongue spill into Atsumu’s mouth, exploratory. It’s not like they haven’t been here before. Of course not. But every touch is treated like the first. 

Sakusa may have given up control today, but that doesn’t stop him from taking what he wants. He steals the breath from Atsumu’s lungs when he swipes his tongue along the roof of Atsumu’s mouth. 

“Fuck, Omi,” Atsumu sighs when Sakusa gives him a chance to breathe. He pushes his fingers back into Sakusa’s hair, pulling a few curls apart. Atsumu tugs, just a little. He’s rewarded with a soft moan.

“Bed,” Sakusa breathes. He wraps his arms around Atsumu’s neck and buries his face there, leaving little bites that nip away at Atsumu’s heart.

“I’m gonna need ya to let me walk then, babe,” Atsumu chuckles. Sakusa pushes further into Atsumu’s neck.

“Nope.”

“Oh, no,” Atsumu sighs. He slides his hands to the backs of Sakusa’s thighs, reveling in the shiver it earns him. “Guess ya gotta lemme carry ya, then.”

Sakusa groans, loud and dramatic. He tightens his hold.

“Shut up,” Atsumu laughs. “I know ya love it.”

Sakusa doesn’t deign to respond, the jerk. He lets himself be lifted, long legs wrapping around Atsumu’s waist.

“Heavy bastard,” Atsumu grunts. Sakusa bites at his ear. 

Holding Sakusa feels like holding molten gold, hot and precious and syrupy-slow in his movements. As Atsumu carries him to their bedroom, Sakusa drags his tongue along the lines on Atsumu’s neck.

“Hurry up,” Sakusa mumbles.

“You’re impatient,” Atsumu pinches his thigh through his sweatpants. Sakusa jumps, using the momentum to grind against his stomach.

“You’re a tease.”

“And you’re hard,” Atsumu pushes Sakusa’s hips back down. “So I’m doin’ something right.”

Sakusa huffs, planting his face back in the crook of Atsumu’s neck. Atsumu likes him there. He’s warm, comfortable. But he really is heavy as hell.

“Here we go,” Atsumu grunts. He releases Sakusa down onto the mattress with a little bounce. 

It’s rare to catch Sakusa in a moment of unconscious dishevelment. These interludes, before he brushes the curls out of his eyes and sets his mouth back into a frown, are just as beautiful as the image Sakusa works so hard to keep up. Atsumu cherishes every one of them.

Atsumu props a knee on the bed and moves to cage Sakusa between his arms. 

“So pretty.”

Of course, saying something results in a pointed glare. Atsumu doesn’t care. He’ll tell Sakusa how pretty he is every day, every hour, every minute. He means it. 

“Why are you still wearing clothes,” Sakusa grabs at the hem of Atsumu’s shirt. His hands slip underneath and slide up Atsumu’s back. They’re cool and soft, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“We just got into bed, babe,” Atsumu lowers his weight down, pinning Sakusa to the sheets. “Can’t I have a little fun with ya first?”

“Nope,” Sakusa wraps his legs around Atsumu’s back and yanks him down. He plants a kiss, quick and sweet, on Atsumu’s nose, before biting down softly.

Atsumu laughs and slips down, sliding between Sakusa’s legs. He lands on his knees beside the bed, Sakusa’s thighs still hooked under his arms.

“You gonna let me get the lube?”

Sakusa squeezes his legs tighter, pulling a little wheeze out of Atsumu’s lungs. 

It’s a humorous thought, being trapped there. But Atsumu can sense the little hint of desperation, the questions that Sakusa is too proud to ask, the reason he was on edge in the first place. Sakusa wants touch, and Atsumu is determined to provide.

Atsumu reaches toward the nightstand, Sakusa’s legs still wrapped around him, and fumbles in the drawer for the condoms and lube. When he finds what he needs, he tosses it on the bed.

Before he can make another move, Sakusa is lurching forward for a bruising kiss. Atsumu’s arms wrap low around his hips, holding him tight. 

“Off,” Atsumu mumbles in between kisses, reaching for Sakusa’s shirt. Sakusa breaks away to whip it off and toss it across the room. “Bit dramatic, Omi.”

“Shut up,” Sakusa rolls his eyes, but a little smile breaks through anyway. “Your turn.”

Atsumu hates to lose this view of Sakusa for even a second, but he pulls his shirt over his head and chucks it behind him. Sakusa’s hands fly to Atsumu’s shoulders, cooling the heat that’s pooling on the back of his neck.

Atsumu hooks his fingers in the waistband of Sakusa’s sweatpants. “Come on. Lemme go, I gotta get these off ya.”

Sakusa releases his legs, leaving a colder feeling behind. He compensates by threading his hands into Atsumu’s hair and yanking him into a kiss. It’s clumsy, trying to get Sakusa’s pants off like this. Their teeth come down too hard on unsuspecting lips and tongues, but Atsumu wouldn’t pull away if his life depended on it.

With Sakusa’s legs exposed to the rapidly-heating air, Atsumu quickly shoves his own pants down, leaving them both in their boxer briefs.

“Atsumu,” Sakusa whispers. His cheeks are red, eyes hazy. Atsumu can’t leave waiting him for another second. 

He tugs Sakusa’s underwear off, soaking up every shiver. Sakusa’s legs are tense, threatening to close back around Atsumu’s waist. 

“Hey,” Atsumu hides a smile in Sakusa’s inner thigh.

Sakusa presses into the touch, pulling at a lock of blond hair. “What?”

“You’re pretty. Really.”

“Shut _up_ , Atsu— _ah_ ”

His quip is cut off by Atsumu’s tongue, licking a broad stripe over his rim. Sakusa’s legs finally close, latching around Atsumu’s neck.

“Mhm,” Atsumu hums. He dips down and bites at the sensitive skin on the back of Sakusa’s thigh. “That’s better, yeah?”

Atsumu looks up from between Sakusa’s legs to find his head thrown back, curls flattening against the comforter. The hand not tangled in Atsumu’s hair is fisted in the sheets by his head. Atsumu can do better than that.

He shifts forward, settling his hands on Sakusa’s waist. The muscle jumps under the new touch. He’s sensitive today. Good.

Atsumu checks to make sure Sakusa is looking away, and takes his cock into his mouth.

“ _Atsumu._ ”

That’s more like it. Atsumu bobs his head in time with Sakusa’s groans, digging his fingers into soft skin. He loves watching Sakusa come apart. He loves watching his chest flush pink. He loves watching the steadiness leave Sakusa’s hands. 

He wouldn’t mind Sakusa finishing like this. But Atsumu knows he can make him see stars. Sakusa knows it, too. That’s probably why Sakusa doesn’t complain when Atsumu pulls off his dick with a glint in his eye. 

Atsumu grabs for the lube and smears a generous amount on his fingertips. As he lets it warm, Atsumu drops kisses and bites on pale skin, connecting freckles and moles with teeth and tongue. 

“Shit, Atsumu, come _on_ ,” Sakusa growls, tugging on Atsumu’s hair. 

“Okay, okay,” Atsumu soothes. He runs slick fingers over Sakusa’s hole, drawing a choked gasp out. “I’ll take care of ya.”

Before Sakusa can make another complaint, Atsumu pushes a finger inside. Desperation collapses into temporary relief in Sakusa’s body, slashing his safety nets and dragging moans out of his chest. 

“Oh, baby,” Atsumu drawls. “You were beggin’ for it, huh?”

Any response Sakusa might have had dies as soon as Atsumu slides a second finger in and presses upward, right where Sakusa needs it. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Sakusa hisses, both hands tangling in the blankets. “There, there, _yes_ —“

Atsumu loves the days where Sakusa loosens his tongue and lets himself go, just a little. But Sakusa is still using words, and Atsumu can fix that.

He presses another finger inside, and watches Sakusa crumble.

“Atsumu, _Atsu_ —fuck, fuck,” Sakusa groans, eyes squeezing shut. His hips are twisting, searching for more friction. “ _Please._ ”

“There we go, Omi,” Atsumu breathes, leaning his cheek against soft, pale skin. “That’s all ya had to say.”

Atsumu straightens up on his knees and leans forward to pull Sakusa’s dick back into his mouth. He takes almost all of him, giving Sakusa something to chase. His thighs are trembling, heels digging into Atsumu’s back. 

“You’re the devil,” Sakusa laughs, running his hands down his face. “A menace.”

Atsumu pulls off, leaving a kiss on Sakusa’s hip. “You love it.”

Sakusa reaches out and runs a thumb down Atsumu’s nose, a startlingly soft gesture performed by shaking fingers. “Maybe.”

That’s enough words for Sakusa Kiyoomi. Any more, and Atsumu’s heart will burst.

He slides his fingers out of Sakusa and pries himself out of the vice grip of his legs. Atsumu stands and pulls his underwear off, watching Sakusa drag himself further onto the bed. Perfect.

But when Atsumu moves to crawl over Sakusa, he’s met with a hand on his chest.

“Wait.”

Atsumu pauses immediately. “Hm?”

“Sit up,” Sakusa mumbles. His cheeks are splashed with mottled pink. “I want to ride you.”

“ _Omi_ ,” Atsumu groans. “You’re killin’ me.”

Sakusa shoves Atsumu toward the headboard, helpfully within reach of the condoms. Atsumu rips one open and rolls it over his dick. Sakusa, in an act of great kindness (or perhaps great lust), grabs the bottle of lube and slides a slick hand over the latex.

“Fuck,” Atsumu sighs, reveling in the attention to his aching cock. “Ya need it that bad?”

“Yes.”

Atsumu drops his voice to a whisper and opens his arms. “C’mere, then.”

A little smile steals over Sakusa’s face as he slides onto Atsumu’s lap. The warm weight of Sakusa’s thighs against his own reminds Atsumu that this is real, he’s here, and he has a lapful of the man he loves.

Sakusa sinks down slowly, taking Atsumu’s dick with a low groan. He hisses once Atsumu is buried to the hilt, and collapses forward into Atsumu’s chest.

“Oh, that’s it,” Atsumu praises, smoothing his hand over Sakusa’s lower back. Dark curls tickle at his neck. “You always take it so well.”

“Shit,” Sakusa breathes, shifting his hips and pulling moans out of both of them. “Atsumu. Fuck me.”

Atsumu chuckles, strained from the tight heat around his cock. “You’re on top, babe. I think that’s your job.”

“Just—“ Sakusa wraps his arms around Atsumu’s shoulders. “Please.”

Atsumu runs his hands down Sakusa’s thighs. They’re shaking, tense and taut. “Alright. Alright, I’ve got ya.”

He plants his feet on the bed and tilts his hips up. Sakusa pitches forward with the new angle, grabbing for the edge of the headboard.

“ _Fuck_ yes,” Sakusa groans, relief coating his tongue. “Right there.”

Atsumu pulls Sakusa flush to his chest, soaking in the heat radiating off his body. His skin is soft under Atsumu’s roaming hands. Atsumu grinds up slowly, watching Sakusa unravel thread by thread.

Sakusa throws his head back with a moan, exposing his chest, jumping with gasping breaths. Atsumu takes advantage of the opportunity, closing his teeth around a nipple.

“Oh fuck,” Sakusa _whines_ , hips shifting. Any rhythm he had is gone, replaced with the uneven grind that comes with need. They won’t get anywhere like this.

Atsumu slides his hands under Sakusa’s hips and lifts, easing him off his dick.

“Wait—“

“Hold on, Omi,” Atsumu soothes. He lays Sakusa out on his back. Before Atsumu can sit back and appreciate the view, Sakusa is tugging him down by the shoulders and biting on his neck. “Fuck, you’re needy today.”

“Need you,” Sakusa whispers. It’s raw and open and honest, a confession Atsumu can’t do anything but accept.

He sinks into Sakusa like a sinner into hell, indulgent and slow. He swallows Sakusa’s shuddering moans, cradles every tremble in his limbs. With Sakusa falling, Atsumu allows himself to catch up.

“God, _Omi_ ,” he moans, pressing more of his weight down and driving in harder. “Feels so good.”

Sakusa is beyond words now, grappling at Atsumu’s shoulders and latching his legs around Atsumu’s waist. The air between them is heavy and hot with panting breaths. Sakusa is close. Atsumu can feel it in the way he tightens around his dick, nails raking down Atsumu’s back. 

“Ya look so good like this,” Atsumu smiles, voice unsteady. “Made to take my cock, huh, babe?”

“Atsumu, please, _fuck_ —gonna...“

It’s a privilege, watching Sakusa rip apart. He bares everything, his voice thin without expectations weighing it down. Still, he needs a push.

“That’s it,” Atsumu brushes a kiss over Sakusa’s brow. “Come on, I’ve gotcha.”

“Ah…hn— _Atsumu_ —“

“Baby,” Atsumu reaches up and strokes Sakusa’s dick, hissing at the tightening heat. “Let go.”

With a few more deep thrusts, Sakusa tumbles over the edge, locking his legs tight and moaning loud in Atsumu’s ear. He spills over Atsumu’s fingers, shaking with the force of his orgasm.

“ _Shit_ ,” Atsumu groans. He slows his pace, wary of the oversensitivity biting at the ends of Sakusa’s nerves.

“Wait, _faster, Atsumu_ ,” Sakusa cries, shoving his fingers into Atsumu’s hair and pulling hard. His heels dig into Atsumu’s ass, forcing Atsumu even deeper.

Well, if he insists.

Atsumu slams his hips down, making sure to pay extra attention to Sakusa’s prostate. Moans slip into broken whines as Atsumu grabs handfuls of Sakusa’s thighs and presses them to his chest.

It’s messy and fast and it doesn’t matter, because Sakusa is gone, fingers twisting further into Atsumu’s hair and eyes shut tight. Desperate shouts of Atsumu’s name stick between gasping breaths. 

“Come on, please—“ Sakusa whimpers. “Atsumu, _please_.”

Atsumu bites into Sakusa’s chest, tethering himself to the ground, and comes into the condom with a groan.

Sakusa’s whines die down as Atsumu stills. The comedown is quiet, preserved in amber, warm and honey-gold. 

Sakusa loosens his fingers loosen one by one, moving down to trace over Atsumu’s cheeks. His legs slip down onto the bed, leaving Atsumu feeling a little colder. 

“So good,” Atsumu whispers. He pulls out quickly, planting a kiss on Sakusa’s nose in apology when he feels him shiver. “Be right back.”

He ignores Sakusa’s defiant sigh in favor of heading to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and wet a washcloth with warm water. 

Sakusa is splayed out on his back when Atsumu returns. His eyes are closed, face cast in marble. Atsumu hates to disturb, but he knows Sakusa will regret not cleaning up. 

Atsumu sits down on the bed carefully and draws his fingers over Sakusa’s ankle, his calf. Sakusa smiles and stretches his arms over his head, arching his back in a long line. 

“I know I say it a lot,” Atsumu mumbles, swiping the warm cloth over Sakusa’s stomach. “But ya really are a dream.”

Sakusa hums and relaxes down into the sheets, letting Atsumu clean them both up. Atsumu follows his hands with his mouth, pressing open kisses everywhere he can reach. Sakusa jumps when Atsumu bites down softly on his waist.

“Hey,” he sighs, eyes still closed.

Atsumu trails more kisses up his ribs and over his chest. He folds the washcloth back up and tosses it on top of their pile of clothes.

Sakusa takes the diversion as an opportunity to grab Atsumu by the waist and haul him over. Atsumu lands on top of Sakusa’s chest, in a perfect position to drop kisses and soft bites on his neck.

“So,” Atsumu mumbles into Sakusa’s collarbone. “You wanna talk?”

Sakusa winds his arms around Atsumu’s shoulders and squeezes. “About?”

“Ya seemed out of it earlier,” Atsumu laughs. “Before ya jumped my bones, at least.”

“Mm,” Sakusa hums. Atsumu can’t see him with his face tucked into Sakusa’s neck, but he knows what face he’s making. His brow is flattened, lips pulled down. “Just…wanted you.”

“Ya know, you can just ask,” Atsumu settles down against Sakusa’s chest, exhaustion finally creeping into his body. 

Sakusa trails light fingers over Atsumu’s spine, pulling him even closer into the arms of sleep. “Maybe.”

Atsumu can decode that later. For now, he melts into Sakusa’s arms, and feels a new trail cut through the map he’s drawn. He can’t wait to see where it leads.

**Author's Note:**

> Me, a fluff writer: lemme write some rough sex
> 
> The sex: *is fluffy*
> 
> Me: :/
> 
> Twitter: @tumbleweedfarm_


End file.
